on conversation

If I am asked a question
               I should not answer it.
               should I answer it?
               will I answer it?
               I will fail at giving an answer
                             deemed desirable.
                             that answers the question.
                             that is decisive.

Today I saw Eileen in her office. Came in to return books she let me borrow almost 2 years ago. She told me that at 23, ages 23 to 27, it's difficult to get by, or rather those years were difficult for her. At that time she relied on people for meals, couch hopping, lived off other people's money.
She asked me about my parents. I told her very little, the relationship isn't as typical as it must have sounded to be; I am not just weary of my parents and distant, what I told her, I am also greatly in awe of their ethics, what I made no mention of.

Have been thinking about our conversation since leaving her office. I've been continuing the conversation in my thoughts, explaining myself, amending to what had been said as though she were there.

I was told by a friend, while waiting for coffee, no longer thinking and talking in my head, was told by this barista friend that his Nancy t-shirt has been getting acknowledged by people who think they've heard of Nancy Romero, the writer.

I laughed.

Writer: a moment of commiseration.

I don't know my future, so why do I think life is pointless, life, like I already know the future, and it's meaningless, what I see for myself. Talking to Eileen made me realize I don't know anything because I am too young (maxim and harshness in tone is my inclusion). So like, this is the answer. Right now, for the question "What is the space between living and death?" It is the part in living where everything you do is forgiven or neglected. I am forgiven for every step I am going to take. Although good steps.





Nancy Romero, December 2007